You Found Me
by alidaversa
Summary: "Just be with me, now, here! What the hell are you so damn afraid of?" Connor yelled in his face, pushing Daryl back against the wall. He breathed hard in Daryl's face, wanting so bad to punch him and kiss him all at once. The archer stared back at him, his eyes cold and emotionless. Connor wondered if he had really lost him. "I ain't afraid of nothin'." Daryl growled. (CONNARYL)
1. Chapter 1

"Jesus fucking Christ," Connor MacManus was practically dragging his brother along through the woods, the fallen leaves from the trees making it that much fucking harder for him to move on. Murphy was bleeding in all sorts of places, his head, his bottom lip, his arm and his ankle was twisted real bad. Connor himself was bleeding too, but nowhere near as bad as Murphy.

"Connor," Murphy was breathing heavily, it was making Connor nervous. "Connor, we gotta stop." he patted his semi good leg. "I'm so tired."

"We gotta keep movin'," Connor snapped. "If they find us, we're dead, dead you hear me?"

Murphy whimpered but kept limping alongside Connor, who still felt like he was dragging dead weight. Honestly, Connor did not think that those guys were looking for them anymore, they had lost them a while back and Connor and Murphy had done enough of a number on them that they would need time to heal too. But it wasn't any reason not to be afraid, and Connor did not like being afraid.

They had it too rough the last week, between that weird guy with the eye patch and now this crew, Connor didn't know how they had made it out alive, in either situation. Murphy had somehow come out getting beaten the worst in both events. Not that his brother couldn't handle himself, that was definitely not the case, but he seemed to have some kind of weird target on his back. Especially with the first fellow, the guy with the eye patch, he kept calling Murphy: Dixon. Connor didn't know what the fuck a Dixon was, but it seriously made that guy angry, he had beaten the shit out of Murphy. Well, before Connor had released himself from his henchmen's hold and gone completely mad on him. But Connor hadn't killed the eye patch man, or the leader of the other crew, which made his panic all the more worse.

Then there were the walkers, because their life wasn't hard enough. Running from them, with a half-passed out Murphy was becoming much too difficult for him. He was trying very hard not to waste bullets, but he wondered how far he was going to be able to go until that went to shit too. So it came down to evading them, dodging behind trees or becoming noiseless, which, thanks to the pile of fucking leaves all over the ground, was very hard to do. How the hell were they going to survive the winter, the way things were going for them?

They were good at surviving, back in Boston, before and during the prison. Then when shit hit the fan with the apocalypse, they did what no one else was smart enough to do, and leave the city. They evaded cops and the military, and even tried to get their friends out, but that did not go their way. So they took off, going from place to place until they had landed in Georgia. Connor was wishing he could circle back around somehow, find his way back to the road to the car, but it had been lost the moment the eye patch guy took hold of them, and Connor was no tracker. So now on foot, he and his brother had to survive, with very little food and water between them.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Connor was supposed to take care of Murphy, which was his duty as an older brother, no matter how many fucking minutes were in between them. Murphy was still a kid in so many ways, he always had been. Connor grew up fast even before the zombie apocalypse. His brother was always smiles and jokes, reckless just for the sake of it. Sure, Connor had his extravagant plans, but he put twice the amount of thought into whatever he did. But it was hard to think of good plans in this kind of world, when their back seemed to constantly be up against the wall.

To make matters altogether worse, Connor was also surprised they hadn't died from starvation or food poisoning yet. They were both shitty hunters, and so had to make do with trying to make all their kills last them as long as possible. They had found a couple of homes on their adventures, taking what they needed, but Georgia had been a lot harder on them since they had arrived. They had come across a farm too, but that from the looks of it, had been burnt to nothing a long while ago, and completely overrun by walkers. It was a shame too; it would have been a real nice place for him and his brother to settle.

Speaking of settling...

"Holy...Murph, _Murph,_ open your fucking eyes..." he tried nudging him. When Murph forced himself to open his eyes, Connor nodded his head. "Look at that."

Before them, out of the woods was a prison, and from the looks of it, a well put together prison. There were a couple of walkers roaming around it, but not too many, and far enough that if Connor caught the attention of one of the people roaming around the courtyard, he wouldn't have to worry about it at all. He had dealt with people in prisons before; he could sure as hell do it again.

Besides, there were women and children walking around, from what he could see, which meant that whoever leads these people had a big group with him, and was nice enough to take in people who would need it.

"Great," Murphy mumbled. "Hurry the hell up then would you, instead of standin' here like a fuckin' idiot."

"You know," Connor grunted as he pulled his brother along. "You're supposed to be in pain, not have a smart mouth on ya."

"It's a talent." Murphy chuckled, and then coughed a bit, his free arm coming around his stomach.

"All right," he mumbled. "It's alright Murph, we're nearly there now."

Connor walked quickly, and whatever passersby were closest who saw, called out the name 'Dad!' and 'Rick!' and hurried away, repeating the name over and over again. By the time Connor and Murphy had gotten to the gate, waiting for it to open, a man with wavy brown hair, a full beard and blue eyes came running down. Connor was surprised to see that he didn't have a gun with him. Right by his side was a young boy with a sheriff's hat on.

Rick was looking at Murphy like he had seen a ghost. "Daryl?" panic was rising in him and the man went to the gate, his hands fumbling over himself trying to open it.

"Daryl?" Connor looked down at him. "Who the fuck is that?"

Rick and the boy exchanged very confused looks before Rick seemed to get a hold of himself. He stopped what he was doing, taking his hands away and surveying the both of them. "He bit?" Rick asked them, still looking at Murphy. It made Connor uncomfortable.

"No," Connor looked over his shoulder. "But if we don't hurry this up, we might get bit."

Rick put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Carl, open it."

The boy named Carl did what he was told, and Connor and Murphy both stumbled inside. Connor who had not realised just how tired he was, collapsed the moment he realised they were safe. Murphy toppled with him, almost, but Rick caught him immediately, settling him down more gracefully than his brother was about to.

"We can fix you up fine." Rick told Murphy. "But before I bring you in with our people, there are some questions I need to ask you."

"Can ask us anythin'," Connor wiped his sweaty forehead. "You've just saved our lives."

"What are your names?"

"Connor," he patted his chest. "Murphy. We're brothers."

Rick nodded, his face hard. "How many walkers have you killed?"

Connor frowned. "I've lost count."

"How many people have you killed?"

Murphy laughed, still holding his stomach. "Recently?"

Rick hesitated and Connor slapped his brother's good arm. "You're such a fuckin' moron," he told him.

"Why?" Rick continued, forcing them to pay attention to him.

"Look alright," Connor glared at his brother. "When this thing started we've haven't had to kill people, we've stayed out of everyone's way. We killed before, long before."

"You two were murderers?"

"Little harsh," Murphy murmured. "We killed drug dealers, rapists, mobsters. We killed bad guys."

Rick raised his eyebrow. "And you think that makes you better?"

"Hey," Murph leaned on his brother for further support, even though they were already sitting. "We never raped anyone ourselves, never got with drugs, never killed an innocent. Judge us how you want." Murphy challenged him, and for a moment his brother wondered yet again, how they were still alive. Christ, Murphy had a mouth and a half on him. If they didn't die just from him poking buttons on the wrong person, he'd die of shock instead.

"Can you walk?" Rick looked like he was trying not to grin, looking over at Connor.

"Yeah."

"I'll help you with...Murphy," he looked uncomfortable when he said the name, but Connor wasn't sure why. "Carl, walk behind us."

Connor didn't know why that was important, especially since neither one of them seemed to have a gun on them. They were loaded with weapons but Rick didn't seem to care, didn't ask them to remove it or if he could pat them down. Not that Connor cared all too much, if this Rick guy was going to give them a place to be, he would go along with whatever he said.

Murphy had finally passed out, now that he was being properly carried by two men instead of one who was only half awake himself. Connor panicked for but a moment, but when Rick assured him that he was breathing, he carried on, trying to ignore the plenty of people who were staring before Rick brought them over to cell block C.

"Hershel!" Rick called out.

A man on crutches came through, very old, with a growing beard and shoulder length hair tied back. A woman was with him, with graying hair herself, pretty enough, slim, and maybe Connor's age, or a little older.

"This is Hershel and Carol." Rick relieved Connor of Murphy and laid him in one of the beds in the cells. "They're both doctors. They'll take care of your brother."

"Jesus," Carol grabbed her heart, looking at Murphy. "Brother? Daryl has another brother?" Rick was shaking his head, both hands out in front of him as he tried to find some words to explain.

Connor looked at them all confused. "Who the fuck is Daryl?"

"I am." a gruff southern voice came.

Connor whipped his head around and saw a man, who most definitely looked like Murphy. Except...he also didn't, but there were definitely more similarities than differences. Murphy was clean cut or at least compared to this guy he was. Daryl, was tanner, longer hair, blue eyes that narrowed themselves rather than being as open and excited as Murphy's. Daryl was a lot dirtier too, like bathing and personal hygiene was not high on his list of priorities (but he didn't smell bad either). He was slightly older than himself and his brother, and hairier, more scruff than Murphy had.

More than that though, it was the look in his eyes that made him different than Murphy. This man was hard, like he had seen shit go down and had been through war. Murphy and Connor had too, of course, but Murphy and Connor were never ones to let themselves live in a state of negativity.

The man, Daryl, ignored Connor and looked to Rick. "Just got back with Michonne, couldn't find him anywhere." he sounded apologetic.

Rick didn't seem to mind so much about that particular detail. "Are you both alright?" Rick asked, holding his friend's shoulder.

"Yeah." Daryl tapped Rick's side. "Who's this?" he pointed at Connor.

"Connor." Rick said, and then led Daryl over to Murphy. Connor was still in shock himself, not only because his brother had some long lost twin, but Jesus Christ, now it was all starting to come together. That guy with the eye patch was looking for some guy named Dixon, well what if that person and Daryl were the same guy? Hell, Murphy looked a little younger than him maybe, but Daryl and Murphy could pass as twins rather than he and Murphy!

"What the hell?" Daryl said, looking down at Murphy. Hershel had already started cleaning his wounds. "This for real?"

"It's the Irish version of you." Rick said seriously. "I thought it _was_ you."

Carol had her arms crossed, looking a little worried. "You have a long lost brother we don't know about?"

"Who's Irish?" Daryl turned around. "Nah, don't think so." he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, they say there's seven people in the world who look like you." he waved his hand over at Murphy.

Connor frowned. "That's a shitty explanation."

"Well either that or we're related."

"Like hell." he snapped. His mother would _never_ have cheated on his father, nor the other way around.

Daryl, who was not too happy with the tone of voice Connor had chosen with him, walked up to him, leaving barely any space between the two. Carol stared at them, while Hershel ignored them. Rick had eyes only for Daryl, only once did Connor notice that they shifted lightly to Connor, but it was a glare, like if Connor made any move against Daryl, that Rick would not need a gun to kill him.

"Watch your mouth, asshole." he said. "You're in my home now."

Connor was not a man who often apologised. But his brother needed assistance, and these people were going to give it to him, so he sucked up his pride and blew out a sorry, under his breath, but enough for Daryl to hear.

"Hey," Connor said as Daryl took a few steps back. "Your last name wouldn't happen to be Dixon, would it now?" he sat on the chair in the corner of the cell, letting out a sigh. Jesus, he was tired. He really wanted to sleep, much more than anything right now.

"Yeah," Daryl frowned, exchanging a look with Rick. "How'd you know that?"

Connor nodded in his brother's direction. "My brother took one hell of a beatin' for you." he said darkly. "Some asshole with a patch over his eye thought it was you, and beat the hell out of him." He didn't add that they had _just_ finished healing before the other group had found them. It wasn't related, so Connor didn't think it needed to be said.

"What?" Rick walked forward, past Daryl now. "What man? What was his name?"

"Didn't say." Connor frowned. "Had a Mexican guy with him..." he saw Rick and Daryl exchange angry looks with each other. "You guys got beef with him?" then he realised that was a stupid question, otherwise his brother would not have taken the fall for Daryl.

Daryl ignored his question. "Where'd you see him last?"

"Christ, was a week ago, wasn't it?" he breathed.

Rick seemed very relieved by the answer that Connor had given them. He put his hand on Daryl's shoulder. "Stay here. You just got back, alright. I need you around for now."

Daryl chewed the inside of his lip and then nodded lightly, accepting Rick's words. Connor almost grinned again, Jesus Christ, Daryl was one open book. The way he was looking at Rick, hell, Connor could see the love from here. Connor never had a 'best friend' look at him like that before.

Carol offered pathetically, "There could be a load of people with eye patches."

Rick smiled softly at her, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Nice try." He ran a hand through his hair. "Come on Connor, we'll get you something to eat."

"If it's alright with you, I'll stay here." he looked at his brother. "Don't wanna leave him alone."

"Sure." Rick nodded, putting a hand on Carl's back and leading him out of the room. Carol sat by Hershel, helping him with whatever it was he was doing to Murphy. Oddly, Connor trusted them even though they had just met. How harmful could an old man be, anyway? Besides, from the looks of it, all the medicine they were using looked fairly legitimate, which was good enough for Connor.

Daryl stood awkwardly in the room, holding onto the strap of his crossbow. "Right," he tapped Carol's shoulder. "Holler if you need me."

"Will do." she told him.

He looked at Connor for a moment, who looked back, waiting for something to happen. Daryl walked up to him, almost shyly, avoiding his gaze. He went in the pocket of his vest and took out a bar, something covered in chocolate, half wrapped. "Here," he offered.

"It's yours."

"You look like you need it." he looked over Connor's body; and it was true that he had lost some weight since the apocalypse had started. "S'all good." he shrugged awkwardly.

Connor took it and smiled lightly. "Thanks."

Daryl nodded again and left the cell block, Connor noticing that on the back of his vest were angel wings. He smiled and touched his cross that was under his shirt, unnoticeable. He unwrapped the bar, and took a bite from it, his thoughts having left with Daryl Dixon.

* * *

><p><strong>hey peeps! I hoped you enjoyed chapter one. I know it obviously didn't have too much interaction between the otp at play here, but it was more to give an intro of what point I decided to put this story at, introduce the characters to each other and so on. If you liked it, let me know, review and follow so I know this story is worth continuing! :D<strong> **(also, p.s: there will not be a love triangle, with daryl/connor/rick (or carol or beth) but it was necessary to put Connor's assumptions in there for future reference !**


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl was sitting on the floor of Rick's cell, holding Judith by her hands, forcing her to stand on her feet. Rick was putting on a shirt, finishing off getting dressed. His hair was messy from sleep, Judith having woke him up with cries that morning. Carl had either managed to ignore it, or was pretending to be asleep, because he didn't move from his spot on the top bunk.

"You didn't have to get up too." Rick told him, running his hands through his hair a few times.

"Yeah well," he smiled as he watched Judith lift one foot. "Could hear this kid cryin' from miles away."

Rick smiled lightly. "I think you're better than me, with this." he sighed, sitting on his bed. "Thanks for feeding her."

Daryl shrugged. "No problem." he smiled at Judith and gathered her in his arms, sitting her on his lap. He kissed her lightly and then looked up at Rick. "And I ain't better than you." he said softly. "You're a good dad, Rick."

Rick nodded, clearly not believing him, but not saying anything else on the matter. He got up and walked over to Daryl, sitting next to him on the ground. He punched Daryl's knee, and held out his arms. Daryl understood and gave him Judith, but also didn't move from his spot.

Once upon a time, Daryl had thought about this. It had not been for very long, mostly because Daryl had forced it out of his system, but it had been there, and he had moved past it now. Once upon a time, Daryl thought about how his life would have been if maybe, just maybe Rick would not have been straight. He hated thinking about it, mostly because Daryl had resented himself for being the way he was his whole life. Being bisexual for Daryl had been a pain in the ass from his childhood all the way to adulthood. He didn't know if it had always been in him, or if it was because of all the shit he went through with his dad, but either way, it was not something he was proud of. From everything Merle had put into his head as a kid, he didn't see any reason to be proud of it. Apparently he was a disgrace to mankind, because Dixon's liked pussy, and Daryl liked both. Mind you, that was even a stretch; Daryl had been with women but had never particularly enjoyed it.

When Rick was with Lori, Daryl knew very well that his feeling with him would get him nowhere. That was part of the reason he had been so bitter for a long time. He pushed it off, and honestly, he was happy being Rick's best friend, it made him feel like he was worth something. But then Lori died, and Daryl, for a moment, wondered if maybe now this was his time. Rick would have an epiphany and Daryl and he would play house.

It was a stupid thought that never came around again, which Daryl preferred it that way. He didn't want to jeopardize his relationship with Rick. Rick was his best friend, and that mattered to Daryl a lot more than feelings that didn't matter. He didn't know whether Rick suspected anything, but if he did, he apparently didn't care. He undressed in front of Daryl and still stayed closer to him than anyone. That's all Daryl wanted in the end, just to be close to him.

"What do we do about those two?" Daryl asked quietly, forcing himself to come out of his thoughts.

Rick didn't answer right away, something that Daryl was glad about. He had thought about them a lot, those two Irish brothers. He thought for a long time how scary it was that Connor's brother looked exactly like him. He had gone to sleep however, thinking about what they had gone through in terms of the governor. This poor Irish guy had taken the fall for Daryl, who technically hadn't done anything, but considering the governor was crazy...he probably tried to kill those brothers. All this made Daryl think that for them to evade someone like the governor, hell, these were two guys that Daryl didn't want to cross.

Daryl's mind had also turned to Connor last night, as a sole entity. The way he looked at his brother, the way he refused to leave the room. It reminded him of the relationship he had with Rick. Daryl saw it immediately, in the way his body was positioned towards his brother, the way he looked at every move Hershel and Carol were making, and looking for some flaw, waiting for the moment he would have to take over.

Daryl also noticed that Connor was easy on the eyes. Soft, playful eyes, a hard jaw, blonde hair, tall and lean...Daryl was starting to see a pattern in the type of men he liked. He almost hit himself, wishing he had a cigarette with him. Jesus fucking Christ, this was not supposed to be his life. He was not supposed to like men; Merle and his father both told him what a fucking disgrace that made him. Yet here he was, all this time later, still finding himself being attracted to these men. And Christ, it's not like Daryl hadn't tried to change. Of course he did, after being punched over and over, beat by his father...why wouldn't he try to change that?

_But your dad and Merle ain't here now, so who gives a shit_?

"We take care of them." Rick said, interrupting Daryl's straying thoughts. "I don't see what else we are supposed to do." Judith had her cheek pushed up against Rick's. His eyes were drooping, Daryl was glad to see. Rick wasn't tired, he was relaxed, for once. Daryl knew how hard that was for Rick to come by. Mornings were nice for them though, and often routine like this, Daryl coming in Rick's room, helping him with Judith, Rick allowing himself to take a few moments to just be in a decent state of mind.

"Right," he nodded. "I can take care of them today, if you want. See what they can do." Daryl swore to himself in his mind, realising how stupid and eager he sounded. Christ, he wasn't like this normally. But on the other hand, someone had to pick up the pieces that Rick was leaving behind. So why shouldn't Daryl offer to take care of the brothers?

"I want to know what the governor did to them." Rick said. "And don't tell Michonne that was who got to them, alright?"

"Sure."

"Murphy's going to need to rest." he said. "I don't know if Connor is the type of guy who's going to want to leave his brother. If you have to sit with him all day, then do it."

"You don't trust them yet?"

"I don't trust anyone." Rick said sadly. "But I trust you."

Daryl nodded, chewing his bottom lip. "I'll go see if they're awake then." he sighed, pushing himself up.

Rick nodded, and Daryl left the cell but not before kissing Judith lightly, then gently tapping Rick's head affectionately. He walked out, going into his own cell for a moment to grab his crossbow and another bar that was on his bed, thinking of yesterday. Carol was asleep on the bottom bunk, soundly, so he was careful not to wake her.

A lot of people thought they were dating, which, he couldn't blame them. They spent a hell of a lot of time together, but Daryl and Carol were just very good friends. Hell, how could they not be, after all this? Besides, she understood him, knew some things about him that not even Rick knew. It's not that Rick didn't want to know, it was that Daryl was afraid to tell him. He knew it was stupid, but it was Daryl and that was the way he thought about things. Still, he was happy to have both of them. He felt a bit bad sometimes because he knew Carol liked him. He wasn't too sure why, but the fact that he could not give her the feelings that she needed from him, it haunted him. He was good at providing for these people, but he couldn't give her that, no matter how much he wished he could. Honestly, his life would have been a lot easier.

He checked on Hershel and Beth's cell for a moment, noting that they too, were both still asleep and then walked over the stairs, going up and beginning to undo the bar. He walked into Connor and Murphy's room, not surprised to see that Murphy was passed out, and Connor was wide awake, still sitting on the chair.

"Hey," he said softly, showing him the bar. He split it in half and offered Connor a piece. The blonde man smiled and took it. "You sleep at all?" he noticed the circles under his eyes.

"Little bit," he sighed, stretching his long, lean legs out. "Couldn't get comfortable."

Daryl nodded at the bed on top. "Could have slept there." he chewed his food quickly.

"Nah," Connor took a bite himself. "Had to keep an eye on him, just in case."

"Case of what?"

"Anythin'," Connor shrugged. He looked at Daryl holding the strap of the crossbow. "You goin' out already?"

"Nah," Daryl shook his head. "Maybe to the courtyard later, but not outside. Was out all day yesterday, and Rick needs me here today."

Connor chuckled. "You're babysittin' us you mean." he nodded in understanding. "S'all right, I get it. Don't blame you either. If we gotta prove ourselves, don't mind doin' so."

Daryl crossed his arms. "You could start with helpin' around here. Takin' up some jobs." he pushed himself off the doorframe. "I ain't gonna ask your brother to do anythin' till he's better, but everyone here has gotta pull their own weight."

"No problem."

"You a good shot?"

"Hell yeah."

"What about huntin'?"

"I can learn." Connor offered.

Daryl shrugged awkwardly. "I don't mind teachin' you." he tapped the strap of his crossbow, leaning out a bit when he heard some voices. He saw Rick walk out of the cell with Judith, Beth coming out of her cell looking worried. Daryl saw her go into his cell.

"Gimmie a sec." Daryl said to him.

"Sure."

Daryl jogged back down, exchanging a look with Rick who looked just as confused. He poked his head in his cell and looked at Beth. "You okay?"

Beth had woken up Carol, and the two of them seemed to be whispering about something in secret. "We're thinking about going on a run today." Carol said carefully. "Beth needs some things."

Daryl frowned. "This a girl problem?"

"Yes." Beth blushed.

"Just gimmie a list," Daryl shrugged. "I'll take the new guy."

Rick who was nearby, overheard and walked over. "I don't like you going alone with him."

Daryl shook his head. "Guy's harmless. Just lookin' out for his brother."

Beth looked even more traumatized than Rick. "Oh God, Daryl, really you don't need to."

"Beth I had a mom you know." he murmured. "I know girls get periods."

"Daryl, God!"

He dodged her throwing a pillow at him and walked to Rick, pulling him with him. "You don't need to worry, Rick, honest."

"I do have to worry." he said, tightening his hold on Judith. "I thought we said you were not going out today."

"He's comin' with me." he patted Rick's back. "Relax Rick, it's just a run." He left before Rick could voice anymore of his anxiety. He walked back up and into Connor's room. He felt his heart pick up a little bit, his anxiety and his excitement both rising together. He had to relax; he couldn't let this get too far in his mind like it had done with Rick.

"You're gonna come out with me today." he told him. "Some things I need to get."

"My brother," Connor shook his head.

"Wake him up and ask him if he's okay." Daryl shrugged. "Look, if you don't agree, Rick's not gonna wanna have you here." and Daryl found himself wishing that Rick would not make that decision. "You come with me and you buy you and your brother some trust."

Connor put up his hands. "Alright, alright." he murmured. "I'll just change." he looked around and then put his head in his hands. "Those mother fuckers took all our shit."

"The governor?" Daryl asked.

"Nah," Connor waved his hand. "These other pricks..." he looked Daryl up and down, which made him extremely self conscious. "You think I can borrow somethin'?"

"Might be a little big, I can get Rick to lend you somethin', or Glenn, maybe."

"That'd be good." Connor got up, but still seemed uncertain about leaving his brother.

Daryl frowned, putting his hand on Connor's shoulder. For the second time that day, he mentally scolded himself. This was so unlike him, just randomly touching strangers now? "We got good people here," he said softly. "They'll take care of him."

Connor nodded. "Alright." he walked up to Murphy and got on his knees, gently shaking him awake. Daryl was in disbelief when he saw the look on Connor's face when Murphy opened his eyes. Christ, Merle never looked at him like that. The way those two brothers locked eyes; it was like neither one of them cared about anything else beyond the other.

"Murph, how're you feelin'?"

"Not bad." Murphy smiled, his eyes still struggling to stay awake.

"I gotta go on a run today," he told him quietly. "You'll be okay? If you want me to stay I will."

"Nah bro," Murphy tapped his face with a small laugh. "Go on. I'm gonna sleep all day anyway, would bore you."

"Alright, I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Yeah, be careful." Murphy said, his smile still lingering as he closed his eyes.

Connor nodded at Daryl as he walked out the cell with him, following him down. Daryl noticed Carl was awake now, and was taking Judith away from his dad, smiling at her brightly. This was another reason why Daryl liked the mornings, the Grimes family was always up first, and it was the only time that they got to really be together without everyone else budding in.

Rick's eyes found them immediately, stopping his pacing and walked up to them. "We good here?" Rick asked.

"Yeah," Daryl nodded. "Rick, you got some clothes for Connor?"

Rick nodded. "Take what you need." he said.

Daryl brought Connor into Rick's cell and flipped through his array of clothes. "Maybe we can get you some stuff too," he murmured, picking out a shirt and some jeans. "Somethin' for your brother, while Carol does laundry you'll have somethin' of your own to wear."

"Sounds good."

"Here," Daryl got up with the clothes and turned around, his eyes going wide when he saw Connor was undressing himself. His pants were already undone, the lines of his hip bones looking dangerously attractive. His chest was so flat, and perfectly outlined by his muscles. He was bruised and had a few scratches over his body, a few tattoos that Daryl hadn't noticed before, and a rosary was around his neck. Taking off his shirt had mussed his hair, giving him a bedridden look.

Daryl cleared his throat. "Here," he tossed Rick's clothes to him. "I'll wait outside."

"Thanks man." he grinned.

Daryl grunted and got out of the cell. He couldn't breathe.

"Can I ask you somethin'?" Connor said.

"Sure." Daryl looked in his rear-view mirror, it was habitual, even though he knew it was useless. There was no one behind him anymore, there hadn't been in a long time. He didn't like driving the cars though, he much preferred his bike, but Connor wasn't Carol, he didn't like the idea of asking a man to come on the bike with him.

"You religious?"

Daryl shrugged. "Dunno. Why?"

"Your vest."

"What about it?"

"The angel wings."

"Oh," Daryl said. "Just thought it looked cool, I guess." he looked at Connor for a moment. "You a big Jesus fan?"

Connor chuckled. "My brother and I place a lot by God." he admitted.

"Yeah?" he turned a corner, making his way to the supply store. "Rick told me what you guys said, the things you did before all this. Was that for God?"

Connor nodded. "You bet your ass."

Daryl snorted. "You sound crazy."

"My brother and I had a belief," Connor explained. "That bad men should pay for their sins. Decent men with decent lives go home every day, worrying about their kids being shot and raped or being dealt drugs."

"Don't seem like your decision to make." Daryl said, pulling up in front of the store. He turned off the car and got out, grabbing his crossbow from the back seat.

"God works in mysterious ways." Connor handed him, pulling out his gun.

Daryl snorted, putting his crossbow up and his finger to his lips. He led the way, Connor behind as they walked slowly up to the store, Daryl looking through the windows before opening it. Before making their way properly through the rows, they checked the front and back of the store, and once clearing it, Daryl relaxed his shoulders and put the crossbow over his back, taking his backpack and opening it.

"So this apocalypse," Daryl said. "You think this is God too?"

"His wrath." Connor nodded. "And his followers will survive."

Daryl shook his head. "That's fuckin' dumb." he wandered over to the hygiene section and took some tampons and pads for Beth. Realising now that they had more women with them, he took a couple more of everything, just in case. "It's a sickness that got out of control."

"We all have our opinions." Connor opened the backpack he had too and began to look at the list Daryl had given him. He took some aspirin off a shelf and looked at it briefly before putting it in the bag. "You know, I didn't take you for a social kind of guy." he grinned. "Had that moody kind of look about yeh."

Daryl frowned. "Yeah well, I've learned a couple of things or two lately."

"Which would be what?"

Daryl's thoughts wandered over to Andrea, who had just recently died, his brother too. "Can't do things without people." he said softly. "Besides, Rick's paranoid enough for the two of us."

"He seems like a good man."

"He is." Daryl nodded. He turned around to Connor, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry, Connor, about your brother."

"Ain't your fault."

"It is a little." he said. "The governor thought he was me, which is why he did that." he looked sideways at him as they continued to walk along the aisle. "Did you try and kill him?"

"Yeah." Connor said. "But the mother fucker got away."

"He does that."

"You gonna tell me what happened with him?"

Daryl nodded, biting his lip. "Eventually, if you earn your place."

Connor grinned. "Lookin' forward to it Dixon." he walked past him.

Daryl was in hell.

They had walked to the store right next to the supply one, and Connor was trying on clothes. He kept undressing himself in front of Daryl, and Jesus Daryl could not help himself but to look. Worse even, now that he knew Connor was a man of God he knew that there was no way in _hell_ that he had a shot with this guy. Worse still, even if Connor would for some reason, have the slightest interest in Daryl, Daryl wasn't even going to do a thing about it. Never had, never would. He was that guy, the guy who stayed in the shadows and watched the people he loved fall in love with other people. Yet, when they needed him, he was more than willing to to do anything in the world for them.

That was the thing about Daryl Dixon. He did not open up to people about his life right away, but Christ he got attached. He did his best to make it seem like he didn't, especially at the beginning of the whole thing. But then...ever since Sophia, it was like it all came crashing down around him. He couldn't stop showing his real feelings; he couldn't help showing his affection. And now with all these new people in the prison, he was looked up to, and he was _liked._

Maybe it was just this new world now that got him so attached to people. Or maybe it was an excuse that he needed for himself. Either way, that didn't make a difference to the present situation he was dealing with, and that was Connor MacManus casually undressing himself in front of Daryl.

God, if Connor knew what Daryl was thinking, he'd probably try to beat him. These God people didn't believe in same sex relationships.

_Neither did your father_.

Daryl shook his head, looking away. Something was rising in his chest but it was not the excitement that he had from before. It was panic now, the desire to run, the desire to revert back to his old ways. It wouldn't matter if he did; Connor didn't know him well enough to think it was because of him.

He sighed, thanking God silently when Connor finally redressed himself. He just wanted to go back to the prison and lock himself in his cell with Carol.

This was going to be hell.


	3. Chapter 3

"Jesus," Murphy said, sitting outside the prison two days later. "What the hell did yeh do to him?" he looked over at his brother, raising his eyebrow. They were sitting in the shade, because despite the fall weather, it was still a little warm and the sun was right in their faces.

"Didn't do shit." Connor said. "Guy's a weirdo."

Ever since their run, Daryl had turned stone cold to Connor. Not that they were friends to begin with, Connor wasn't an idiot, they had just gotten here, but he was hoping that if he made it in good with the lieutenant, he would make it in good with the captain. But Rick had barely spoken to him as it was, and Daryl didn't even look him in the eye. Connor couldn't remember doing anything to upset him; he had actually been on his best behavior when they had been on the run. Even Daryl, at the time seemed like he was comfortable with Connor.

"Seems okay," Murphy finished his plate and eyed Connor's. Connor rolled his eyes and handed the rest to him, still watching Daryl who was helping Rick out with something in the courtyard. They were pointing at things, talking about God knows what. Rick kept touching Daryl's shoulder, squeezing it, and Daryl looked at him with such affection that it made something in Connor stir.

"I think he's gay." Connor murmured to Murphy, suddenly.

He looked up, frowning. "Are we teenage girls now, who gives a fuck?" he mumbled.

Connor rolled his eyes. "Yeh idiot, I meant with _Rick_."

Murphy snorted. "I don't think so Connor." he shook his head. "Rick has kids."

"You and I know better than anyone that people lie and cheat all the time."

Murphy tilted his head, considering it. "It is the apocalypse." he laughed a little and nudged Connor. "Jealous?"

"You can fuck right off, you know I ain't queer."

Murphy laughed and nodded. "I know, I know." he finished eating and pushed the plate away, crossing his arms. "I'm doin' fine by the way, thanks for askin'." he motioned to his new scars.

Connor didn't want to ask how Murphy was doing for exactly that reason. He wasn't an idiot, he knew that Murphy was healing physically, but Connor's little brother was crying out at night, not loud enough to wake half the cell block, but enough that Rick had traveled up there on the second night of their stay. He had not asked anything to Connor, who was awake and smoothing the sweaty head of his brother, whispering him back to sleep. He had only stared and passed Connor a cold cloth, and a bottle of medication. His baby had been in his arms, looking like she had also woken up from a nightmare. Connor had taken the bottle gratefully, nodded at the leader and watched him go.

"Sure yeh are." Connor said.

"I am." Murphy showed him his wounds. "Look I'm healin' fine."

"I know, I know." Connor faked a smile, one that Murphy bought easily. It's not that Murphy had less of the twin signals that Connor had, it was just that in times like these, Murphy preferred to believe that he had the higher ground on Connor, which, Connor always gave him. It was one of those perks of being an older brother, giving Murphy that sense of ease.

"Did they give you a job to do yet?" Murphy asked, leaning back in his chair.

"No," Connor muttered, crossing his arms. Daryl and Rick were walking up to them now, Daryl looking at the ground, his hand on the strap of his crossbow and Rick running a hand through his hair.

"Connor." Rick nodded, reaching them. "Murphy."

"Rick Grimes." Murphy smiled. "What can we do for our gracious leader this morning?"

Rick grinned a little, and Connor wasn't surprised. Murphy could say anything with actual feelings; actual sympathy and it would still come out sounding a little too sarcastic for some people. Thank God these people seemed to understand Murphy wasn't being a complete dick, he was just born a smartass.

"You still need to heal." Rick said looking at him. "Connor, do you still want to learn to hunt with Daryl?"

"Fuck no," Murphy said. "I had a massive fever when I agreed for Connor to go off with Mr. Surly over here." he waved his hand over at Daryl.

"Watch it," Daryl growled, looking up at Murphy from under his lashes.

Connor noticed again how different Daryl and Murphy really were. Daryl was like a cat, quiet and nice looking and patient until you poked a little too hard at it. Then the claws came out. Murphy was like a dog. Loud, and stupid and in your face. Connor grinned; he couldn't get too hard with Murphy though since he was a dog himself. They were one in the same.

"I'm just sayin'," Murphy said. "He went out there without me once; I can't let him do that again."

"Let me?" Connor said, looking over at his brother. "Is that a challenge, little brother?"

"Challenge, what the fuck are you sayin'?"

"I let you do shit, not the other way around." Connor poked his chest. Then, just to spite his brother he looked at Rick and nodded. "I'll go with Daryl."

"Great." Rick said. He looked to Daryl. "When you're ready."

"I'm ready now." Daryl shrugged. He nodded at Connor, biting his bottom lip. "You got your gun?"

"Yup."

"It quiet?" Daryl asked. "Don't need half the walker country comin' to look for me."

"Relax, angel, it's fine." Connor let the pet name slip out before had a chance to stop himself. Murphy grinned, knowing that it meant nothing to either of them, but Connor felt guilty about it. Like getting familiar with Daryl, giving him names was a step over the line for both of them. The whole thing felt wrong to Connor, for a reason he couldn't quite explain.

Worse even, was the fact that Daryl didn't protest. He took that word and seemed to digest it, looking sideways at Rick for some kind of confirmation. When Rick smiled, Daryl looked back down and smiled a little himself. Connor frowned, for reasons he didn't know why. What the hell was so special about Rick Grimes that all it took was some shit smile to make Daryl feel okay about the things that bothered him?

_Oh hell_, Connor thought, _these two have it bad for each other_.

But then, in the back of his mind, another, tiny voice said to him, _tell yourself the truth._ But Connor pushed that portion of his thoughts away, partially because he had no idea what he should even make of it. That pet name was not something he wanted to get comfortable with.

"We're gonna go on foot this time." Daryl told him.

"Connor," Murphy shook his head. "No, come on."

"Relax, Murph, I'll be back before you know it." he got up, slapping his brother's face tenderly before following Daryl, who had already started walking away.

"Better watch your ass Connor!" Murphy yelled at him. "That redneck better get you back safe!"

"Hey." Rick snapped.

"Hey," Daryl turned and pointed. "When you gonna learn to watch your fuckin' mouth?" he exclaimed, loud enough so that a few people passing by paid attention to them.

"Tell you what." Murphy said. "When my brother comes home safe today, I'll give you a standing fucking ovation."

Daryl raised his eyebrows just for a second before he made to move forwards, looking for a fight. "You're a little prick, you know that?" Rick looked at him and shook his head, but _Jesus Christ, _Connor could see that Rick was ready to jump in if Connor would need the assistance.

"Woah," Connor pushed Daryl back lightly with his hands, keeping them settled on his chest. "That's enough."

"Tell that to your fuckin' brother." he snarled, waving his hand.

"He's just agitated." he muttered, turning Daryl around, ignoring the way his hands had fanned themselves out so brilliantly over his chest. Connor could tell even through the layer of the shirt that Daryl was toned.

"He needs a punch in the damn face."

"Hey," Connor removed his hands now. "Watch your mouth."

Daryl looked him over; their faces dangerously and drastically close to each other. Connor felt his breath, and Daryl's chest was puffed out so much that it was almost touching Connor's. He was definitely trying to show them who was the alpha male in this situation. Connor of course, ignored the intensity of Daryl's gaze and looked at his eyebrows instead, doing his best to stare him down from that point. He supposed he must have won because Daryl huffed and then looked away. "You comin' or what?" Daryl called, and when he walked, Connor noticed how his arms swung drastically.

Connor followed quickly, frowning all the while. He didn't say anything for the whole trip out into the forest. Not when Daryl looked like he was biting his thumb off, or when there were a few walkers nearby−to which they had both taken care of easily. It was the only moment in their ten minute walk that Daryl sent him a look that didn't make Connor think that he hated him.

"Alright," Daryl said, stopping. "Looks okay here." then he sat on the ground, and pulled his knees up to his chest.

"What now?" Connor stared down at him.

"Now nothin'," Daryl muttered. "Those walkers made too much noise; it's gonna be a while before we get any animals near us. Rick doesn't want us goin' too far on foot, which means we gotta wait until somethin' comes around."

"So we just sit and wait."

"You can go run along like a chicken without a head if you want, but I ain't goin' anywhere."

"You're a hunter," Connor said, deciding to sit down across on him. "Aren't you supposed to track animals?"

Daryl stared at him. "I'm tired," he said simply. "And I ain't got nothin' else to do today besides watch your sorry ass." he muttered. "So we're gonna wait."

Connor frowned. "You got a problem with me, Dixon?"

"No." he muttered.

"You sure 'bout that?"

"You ain't done nothin' to me." Daryl said, looking at his hands. "Just how I am."

"Not with Rick," Connor said, not kindly.

"What does that mean?" Daryl surveyed him, his head flying up.

Connor grinned a little. "You gay, Daryl?"

Now, Daryl did get up. "What'd you just say to me?" he watched with a glare as Connor stood up to face him.

"Just a question man," But Connor did not think that him smiling was helping Daryl with his anger. "I'm just one curious fella."

"Oh?" Daryl snarled, getting in Connor's face. "And what the hell would you do if I was your religious, Irish, prick? You'd smite me? Huh? You'd beat me into the fuckin' ground?"

Connor couldn't stop smiling, not even when he chuckled a little and Daryl grabbed a hold of his shirt, bringing him close to him. He looked murderous, but Connor couldn't believe he was getting under the hunter's skin, or more even, that he might be right!

"Is it Rick?" Connor asked, with a laugh. "Please tell me it's Rick."

"You're a piece of shit," Daryl snapped, pulling a left hook and getting Connor right in the jaw. "You and your brother. We shoulda never let you in here."

"You don't wanna fight with me friend." Connor got up and put his hands out, immediately declaring an act of peace between the two of them. "Dunno what's crawled up your ass, but I'm tellin' you now, if you hit me again and I go back there with bruises, Murphy is gonna do you in."

"I'd like to see him fucking try." Daryl growled, grabbing his crossbow and slinging it over his shoulders. "And if you tried to do anythin' to me, Rick would put you down before havin' a thought about it, just so _you_ know." he said.

"I haven't even seen him carry a gun."

"Rick don't need a gun." Daryl said, and then he gave a great sigh and shook his head. "Come on, let's go fucking search for somethin'." Doing a complete one eighty with his mood, he walked away from Connor, avoiding his gaze altogether, but his voice not holding the same kind of hostility that it had before.

Connor watched him go. "What's the problem you seem to have with me Daryl Dixon?"

* * *

><p>"Murphy." Rick said, walking up to him in the cell block.<p>

"Lo, Rick." Murphy nodded, sitting down on the steps. Turns out, Rick had been right; he had desperately needed some time to rest today. He stared up at him and tried to smile but it didn't work. He was so tired, he had tried helping out with fixing things around the prison with Glenn and Maggie, who were nice enough, but his wounds were starting to get angry with him because of it.

"I need to talk to you." he said, his voice dropping a little. He nodded at the steps and Murphy moved a little to the side. Rick walked over and sat down next to him, folding his hands together in front of him. "I'm not going to ask you about what happened yet, and how you guys got here in the state you were in." Rick said lightly. "But you know that it is going to come up."

Murphy nodded slowly, forcing himself not to make himself go back to those thoughts. Already the nightmares he was having were bad enough as it was, talking about it out loud...Jesus, he could not deal with that. Not now, not ever, and not with a stranger.

He didn't know how Connor was able to do it. Get up in the morning and go about his day like everything was okay. Murphy couldn't deal with it, and now Connor was running off in the woods with the redneck, and what the hell was Murphy supposed to do? Sit alone in pain, in his own god damn thoughts all day? Jesus, what a bad couple of days it was. He needed to be out there, doing what he did best with his brother.

"So then what do you wanna talk about?" Murphy asked.

Rick scratched his face. "Daryl," he said. "Despite the array of people we have here, there are some of us; we are a close knit group."

Murphy nodded, he had noticed that during the past two days, who was closest and who had been together for a long time. He had watched Daryl walk around with Rick most of the time, Carol after Rick, and sometimes with Glenn and Maggie. He didn't count Judith, because when Daryl was with her, it was because the day was done, and Rick was sleeping or they were in his room together.

Maybe Connor was right, maybe Daryl was gay.

"What about him?" Murphy said.

"His brother died, not too long ago." Rick said softly. "We lost a friend not too long after that. Daryl and I, and our group, we've been through hell and back. That man who hurt you, the governor, he did a lot to us, and even before him we've been through the shit."

"No offence sheriff, but I think we all have."

"I don't doubt that." Rick shook his head. "I do not. But Daryl is at a point where he is getting up from his lowest points. These people rely on him, they...I...need him."

"You love him." Murphy looked at him, and he understood that Connor was wrong...at least about Rick Grimes. "I get it, like I love my brother." he nodded.

"He gets attached easily." Rick continued. "Despite what he has people believe. If you and your brother stay here, do not give him a reason to question his loyalty to you once he gives it."

"We're good people." Murphy promised.

"So is he." Rick said. "We all are. Just don't disappoint us. If you stand with me and Daryl, you're family, it's black and white. The moment you cross, it's over."

Murphy put out his hand. "Same for me and Connor."

Rick shook Murphy's hand.

* * *

><p>Connor was laughing loud and proud and he didn't give a shit who heard him. He slapped Daryl's back, hard, hard enough for Daryl to swear. He picked up his dead rabbit and swung it in Daryl's face, then hit him again. Daryl looked like he was about to punch him in the face again, but Connor could see the hint of a smile that was making Daryl's face twitch, the one he was trying very hard to hide.<p>

"Hit me again Irishman, I'll beat your ass." he said.

"Oh come on angel," Connor laughed. He watched the confusion pass in Daryl's face for a moment, before he reverted back to his quiet nature. "I made a kill!" Connor had to mentally scold himself for using that nickname again; he hadn't meant to, it just came out so casually around Daryl.

"Only took you like four tries." Daryl muttered, but when Connor looked at him he was grinning.

"Make fun of me all yeh want, but I'm gonna go back there proudly."

"Job well done." Daryl said. "Come on, let's go. We have enough food there for a week."

Connor followed him, holding the rabbit by its ears. "What're we gonna do when winter comes?"

"Stock up, less runs." Daryl said. "More we can bring in before the winter, the better."

Connor clapped his shoulders. "Me and Murph are gonna help you on that, yeh hear?"

"Yeah, yeah, I hear." Daryl looked at him, chewing his lip. "Sorry, bout before."

Connor shrugged. "S'all right. Me too," he rolled his eyes, because he really wasn't. "Bout the gay thing. None of my business."

"No, it ain't." Daryl snapped.

"Well, if you are, it's alright."

Daryl was frowning again. "You don't know when to leave well enough alone." he shook his head, stepping over large, fallen branch.

"No, I do." Connor smiled. "I just choose not to."

"And why's that?"

"Come on angel, where's the fun in that?"

* * *

><p>Rick waited until they got back.<p>

He saw them come out of the forest and let out a long breath. As much as Murphy was freaking out and waiting for Connor, Rick was not fond of Daryl going off on his own especially with a stranger. He trusted these Irishmen, he did, but he hated being away from Daryl this long. After everything that happened, Daryl was the only one who was always around when he needed them. Daryl was a constant, his needle pointing north.

"Jesus." Rick shook his head, seeing a bruise on Connor's face. Daryl's hand was a little more red than it should be, and Rick was always good at putting two and two together. "Really?"

"He pissed me off." Daryl said, watching Connor go past them. "It's fine. Guy stuff."

Rick put a hand on Daryl's shoulder. "I need you to be careful."

"I always am." Daryl frowned. "The governor hasn't been around and−"

Rick stared at him. "I don't mean out in the woods."

"Well then what?"

Rick stared at him knowingly. "Connor is a handsome man." he said.

"Rick," Daryl shook his head, pulling back. "Don't."

"Look, I never bring these things up, I don't." Rick said with his hands up. "But the moment they got here, you've been going back to your old ways."

"Only with them."

"I can't have that."

"Why? Who gives a shit?"

"I do. You are..." Rick put his hands out, desperate. "You're all I have right now. Carl's still pissed at me; half the people here are still wondering if I'm crazy."

"Rick..."

"I need you. Alright? And I don't care if you like either of those brothers, I really don't. I just need you to stay as you were. Stay open. For me."

And because Rick knew Daryl could not say no to anything he asked, his best friend nodded.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey," Daryl murmured, leaning against the cell door. It was the middle of the night, but apparently that hadn't stopped Murphy from being loud enough to wake up half the block. Or maybe Daryl just slept far too lightly. He had his arms crossed over his chest, looking at Connor who was sitting on the floor, his head lying on Murphy's pillow, his hand over his.

"Sorry," Connor said immediately, his eyes half closed from his tiredness. "Sorry about Murph. Nightmares."

"Right." Daryl said. "Just, uh, put a sock in him or somethin', the whole place is hearin' him."

"I know." Connor murmured, caressing Murphy's hand habitually. "M'sorry. Honest, I am. But he's sleepin' now."

"Good." Daryl said. He didn't know whether or not he was supposed to leave. He did know one thing, and there was the fact that he did not want to leave. "What does he have nightmares about?"

Connor sighed. "The governor, and the other group that found us."

Daryl frowned. "You should tell me what happened. Otherwise Rick is gonna ask him."

"I don't want Murphy talkin' about it." he said immediately, his voice raising a little. When Murphy stirred a little, he tightened his hold on his brother's hand and then moving. Connor sighed a little and lowered his voice. "Alright, I'll tell yeh. Now's a good a time as ever I suppose."

"I can tell Rick for you both." Daryl suggested.

Connor nodded, moving some of the hair back from his brother's sweaty forehead. "Well, you know what happened with the governor." he murmured. "A few days later though, this group found us, bunch of guys, kinda looked like our type, guys who knew how to get shit done, asked us if we wanted to go on with 'em."

"And you did."

"Nah, we didn't." he murmured. "And that didn't sit well with them."

"So they beat the shit out of you?" Daryl shook his head, feeling his anger rise. If he had been there, Daryl would have helped Connor and Murphy, he would have protected them. He would have killed anyone who tried to hurt anyone in this prison.

"And some." Connor whispered sadly. "They uh...they _took_ Murphy."

"Took him where?" Daryl frowned.

"In front of me." Connor sighed.

It took Daryl a moment to understand just what Connor meant. That these pieces of shit did not only beat Connor and Murphy simply for refusing them, but they had _raped_ Murphy, in front of his brother. Daryl's fists clenched.

"How'd you get out?" he asked angrily.

"Got into a fight with them all, managed to get my gun, shot one of them, and took Murphy and left as fast as we could." he looked away from his brother and to Daryl. "I know you gotta tell Rick, but please, don't tell anyone else."

Daryl bit the inside of his lip, nodding. "Sure." and then they stayed in the darkness, quiet, Daryl watching Connor and Connor watching Murphy. He had never seen brothers like this, it still blew his mind. Merle would have never sat by his bedside this way, especially while he was sleeping. Merle would have smacked him awake and tell him to stop being a pussy, to man up, and beat whatever dumbass fears he had inside his head.

Daryl knew he could not compare the way Connor looked at Murphy to the way Connor looked at him, but hell, he wished that he could. There was such adoration in his gaze, and where was Daryl? Standing in the doorway, pining over some guy who was an old school Christian which basically meant that every thought Daryl had about Connor was extremely impure for Connor. But even then, Daryl could not stop himself from wanting Connor's attention. Daryl was not a needy person, he didn't even want affection, and he just wanted acknowledgment.

And here he was, selfish as always, thinking about the attention he craved, rather than focus on the fact that he was in a room with two brothers who had to watch each other go through something that no one should have to go through. And still, they were close as ever. But of course, they could not afford not to be. Jesus Christ, Daryl wanted to find these guys and beat the living shit out of them. What kind of monsters did that to people, in an already crappy world?

"Daryl," Connor whispered. "Help me back up there." he motioned lazily to the top bunk. Daryl hadn't even noticed that they had spent so much time in silence. Daryl had been so busy looking at every hair on that blonde head of his, thinking of ways to make this place a better home for these brothers, that he hadn't noticed Connor was falling asleep.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Sure," he mumbled, pushing himself off the wall. He went over to Connor and leaned down; putting his arms under Connor's lifting him semi-gently. Connor stumbled back, almost not even letting go of Murphy's hand in the first place.

"Climb up the ladder." Daryl told him. Connor's head lolled back, completely limp in Daryl's arms. _God damnit_, he had fallen asleep. Or he was doing it on purpose just to piss Daryl off, which was working out just as well. He grunted and grabbed Connor best he could, encircling him with both his arms. He then turned Connor around, having to move his head since Connor's got a little too close to him. Daryl could not believe he was focusing on the way Connor's body was pressed up against him. Jesus, now was not the time to be thinking about Connor that way. _Mind_, Daryl thought as he hoisted Connor over his shoulder, _shouldn't be thinkin' about Connor like that at all_.

Daryl picked Connor up as best he could, groaning a little as he climbed two steps on the ladder, and then, with the greatest effort ever, threw Connor on the top bunk. He saw Connor grin a little, and Daryl almost hit him, he _fucking knew_ Connor was playing with him.

"Asshole." he mumbled, deciding to in fact, punch Connor gently in the ribs.

Connor grunted and laughed a little, slapping Daryl's hand, his eyes still closed. "Thanks, Daryl."

"No problem." Daryl murmured. "Night."

"Goodnight, angel." Connor sighed, his hands slipping under his pillow.

Daryl walked out before he decided to sit on the floor and watch Connor sleep for the rest of the night. That had been hard for him to hear, Connor saying his little pet name for him in a sleepy sigh. Daryl went back to his own cell block, careful not to wake Carol and went to his bunk. He didn't bother going under the cover, he knew he wouldn't fall asleep for a long time anyway. And by the time he would fall asleep, it would be day time, and he would get hot and uncomfortable under the covers. He was very tired himself, they had a long day before they had retired to the prison. He had gone on a real easy run with Rick, Connor and Murphy, and as it turned out, the four of them had made a pretty good team. Daryl already knew Rick and he worked well together, but so did Connor and Murphy. So two groups of two people who did amazing work turned out to be what Daryl thought, would even be an even better team up than he was with Glenn and Maggie.

And once again, Daryl could not stop looking at him while they were on the job. He watched Rick too, but not like he used to. Daryl only watched Rick's back now, making sure he was safe, that if Daryl needed to step in, he would be able to do so. But the way Daryl looked at Connor was wrong, he watched him for more reasons than just to protect him. He watched Connor's muscles tense and release themselves when the danger would pass, or how strong his legs were, when he would crouch down and not tremble from staying put for so long for more than a minute. And worse still, Daryl could not help but look at his backside.

He felt disgusting about the whole thing.

"Hell." Daryl mumbled, turning around, shoving his face into the pillow. He just wanted to sleep...for like seven years.

* * *

><p>"<em>Christ," Connor moaned as Daryl's hand trailed from his chest all the way down to his manhood, grabbing it. Connor was on top of Daryl's lap, his back to him, tilting his head back and grabbing Daryl's hair by curling his arm around Daryl. <em>

"_Yeh like that?" Daryl growled in his ear, thrusting into him. Connor moaned out loud, the feel of Daryl being completely in him like that was overwhelming. God, it was amazing, there was so much of him, so much skin, so much muscle, and a fucking huge dic−_

"CONNOR!"

Connor bolted up from his bed, sweating, his hands flying over to his crotch, because _God _the moment he woke up he knew he had a hard on. And for a _man_, no less, which was _unacceptable. _Connor looked around at a grinning Murphy, who was looking at Connor hide himself.

"Who were yeh dreamin' about?" Murphy smiled.

"No one." Connor slapped his brother's face.

Murphy slapped him back. "Tell me!"

"No one," Connor shrugged. "I can't remember." he lied easily. Murphy shrugged and jumped down, removing his clothes to change. Connor sighed and put the heels of his palms to his eyes, leaning back on the bed.

Hell, he had not had a dream like that in a long time. Hell, Connor had never had a dream about a god damn guy before. And of all the freaking men, he had Daryl Dixon in his dream, the one friend he had made since he and his brother had got here. But it was just a dream, nothing to worry about, and Connor would forget about it swiftly enough anyway.

They had spent a lot of time together since his arrival at the prison, but this was a first for Connor. This was not like him. Connor liked women, Connor liked putting his penis inside vaginas and not anything else. And yet, here he was, trying not to think about a sweaty Daryl Dixon, naked, all over him, so that his one painful boner would go away.

Connor rubbed his face anxiously, thinking about the night before. Maybe it was because of what they had spoken about the night before. Even though that had been more traumatizing, the mention of sex with men was there, which, theoretically could have led to the dream that he had. Connor knew that he was reaching far out, but it made him feel a little better. Especially considering the fact that he had enjoyed it a little too much.

"You gonna get dressed?" Murphy shot his clothes at him. "Come on, you lazy ass."

"Shut up." Connor shot his clothes back at Murphy, but got out of bed anyway, swinging his legs over the bunk and jumping down. He took off his shirt and slipped on a new one, before changing his pants quickly. Murphy was sitting on the bottom bunk, looking at his brother and grinning all the while.

"Shut up."

"I ain't sayin' a word." Murphy laughed.

"You are!"

"I'm not!"

"Shut up." Connor repeated, frowning. He tousled his hair and pointed at him. "Go get us breakfast, I'm gonna see what's on the agenda for today." he slapped Murphy again, but was gone before his brother could get him back. He went on his way to Rick's cell, checking inside to see if Daryl was there. When he saw that neither Daryl nor the Grimes family were present he went over to Daryl's cell and peeked inside, where, there was no one either.

"Hey," Daryl said from behind. Connor jumped from surprise, turning around quickly, facing Daryl. There was almost no space at all between them, Daryl staring at him with a very confused look, his eyebrows scrunched together, looking like he didn't know whether or not he should smile. "What're you doin'?"

"Lookin' for you." Connor stepped aside so Daryl could cross. He only then noticed that Daryl had two bowls in his hand, and handed one to Connor.

"Breakfast." he nodded.

Jesus, now the guy was getting him breakfast? "Oh, I sent Murph." he said lamley.

"Saw him on the way, don't worry." he nodded, sitting down on the bottom bunk. "What'd ya need?" he asked.

For a moment, Connor needed to collect himself. He had just dreamt about this man naked, and was it possible, that now, when Daryl was fully dressed and looking more or less freshly washed (which, from what Daryl gathered, was quite an achievement), Connor's body was reacting even stronger to that. The fact that Connor didn't really know what was under all those clothes, how Daryl really looked, it made it all so much more exciting.

"Just wanted to know what's on the agenda today." Connor spat out, pinching his leg through his pocket, forcing himself to push back all those thoughts. He was a man of God, this was not how it was supposed to be! What would Murphy say? No, this was just a bad morning, that's all it was, a bad morning, from a stupid dream.

"Relaxin'," Daryl was picking in his bowl, shoving food into his mouth. "We're gonna stalk up next week, but today Rick said I could take the day off. We got enough, no point in goin' out if we don't need too." he pointed at him and got up, walking over to Connor. "What's wrong with you?" he nudged him lightly with his elbow.

"Nothin'," Connor shook from the contact. "Nothin', I'm great."

"Don't look it." he stared at him. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothin', I just had a bad dream."

"Bout what?" Daryl pursed his lips, and Connor wanted to slap it off of him.

"Nothin' important."

Daryl shrugged. "All right." he patted Connor's shoulder.

Connor thought he was going to die.


	5. Chapter 5

"Connor," Daryl whispered, waving his hand. "Connor!" He got his attention through the loud groans of the walkers that had them trapped on their run.

Connor whipped his head around and spotted Daryl, moving slowly behind the towers of boxes to make it to him. Daryl's hand reached out for him grabbing Connor's bicep and pulling him close. Connor didn't like this, being so close to Daryl, close enough to see every piece of dirt that was rubbed over his forehead. When really he should be focusing on getting back to Glenn, Maggie and Murphy who they were separated from. That was what was important, not the way Daryl's muscles were bulging, since he was all tense and thinking of a way out. What was important was Connor getting back to Murphy, not that Connor had woken up this morning from yet another hard on from a stupid dream.

"Let go of me." Connor hissed.

"Shut up." Daryl snapped, but he let go like Connor asked. Not that it helped much, especially considering Connor couldn't move back from Daryl, because there were more boxes from the store in back of him. He was basically pushed up against him, not even the crossbow between them.

"We gotta get to them." Connor whispered.

"We gotta get out of here," Daryl disagreed. "Make our way round the back, through the window we came in and then look for 'em, maybe there's a way in from the back."

"Are you insane? You know how much time we're gonna waste?"

"Would you shut your trap?!" Daryl snapped, a walker appearing, Daryl taking the arrow in his hand and getting the walker in the forehead. It fell easily, and Daryl pulled the walker close to them grunting as he sat it up. "You're attractin' them here."

"Better us than where Murph is at."

"How the hell do you figure that?" Daryl said, trying to poke his head over the boxes. "I can't see a thing, gimmie a lift." he put his crossbow over his shoulders, stretching out his arms, ready for Connor to pick him up. They were so close though, and Connor was very confused where Daryl was concerned right now, and holding him in his arms, he could just not do that right now.

"I'm lighter than you." he said stupidly.

"Jesus Christ." Daryl snapped, coming around and pushing Connor lightly to the front. "Come on, hurry up." he tapped him just above his butt on his lower back. Connor jumped from the contact but Daryl either didn't notice or quite frankly, didn't care. Then, before Connor could say anything, Daryl grabbed him around the legs, grunted a little and picked him up. Connor's hands immediately went down to Daryl's strong arms, steadying himself against him. He leaned back a little, one of his hands moving from Daryl's arm to his shoulder, Connor twisting a little in Daryl's grasp. He was thoroughly uncomfortable, and yet, the idea that Daryl had lifted him so easily...

"Oh hell," Connor muttered, looking over the boxes. He saw the store, the dozen or so walkers that were groaning against the backdoor, where Murphy, Glenn and Maggie had all hidden.

"My gun," Connor whispered, slapping Daryl's head.

"Hey." he snapped, dropping him to the floor.

Unfortunately, Connor did not land well, slipping and tripping over his own two feet and the lack of space between the box towers. He grabbed Daryl by the vest as he was falling, pulling him down with him. Daryl swore at the same time as Connor, falling on top of him. The boxes tumbled back, and the boys tumbled with it.

"God damn it." Daryl moaned, though he had received less of a blow since he had landed on top of Connor. Connor however, was looking up at Daryl, and wondering how the hell he had ended up in this mess. Daryl wasn't looking at him, which was very helpful, but even from below him, Daryl was..._no, no, no_, Connor thought, _don't even fucking think what you're about to think_.

And yet. Despite the walkers that had caught them, and were now making their way towards them, Connor was distracted by the man on top of him. Worse was the idea that Connor was in any way attracted to this man, because Jesus Christ this was not who Connor was. This, this whole thing was a mess, and god damn it, it was all because of the stupid dreams Connor kept on having. Worse was that Daryl−

Connor couldn't finish thinking. "Look what you did." Daryl said, and worse still, he didn't even bother to get off. He sat up on Connor, who had to hold back a moan as Daryl and accidentally rubbed Connor exactly the right way. He brought up his crossbow, sitting on Connor's lap as he began shooting the walkers in the head. Connor groaned and grabbed his gun from the waistband of his pants, tilting his head so he looked at the walkers upside down.

And damn he still shot every one of them right in the head.

Daryl grinned and patted Connor's stomach as he overlooked the walkers that had all fallen. Connor frowned and slapped Daryl's thigh. "Get off." he snapped.

"Relax Irish," Daryl said. "Glenn, Maggie! Murphy!" Daryl called, moving off Connor, dragging himself in a way that did _not_ help Connor's situation in the nether regions in any shape or form. Anger suddenly overwhelmed Daryl, for the dreams, for the predicament they had just been in, for picking him up, for falling on top of him, for fucking everything. Connor grabbed Daryl's shirt and brought him down, Daryl's eyes widened.

But Connor only did something to make their situation worse.

Connor punched Daryl in the face, at the same moment that the door opened in the back, revealing Glenn, Maggie and Murphy. Daryl grunted and threw his crossbow away, grabbing Connor by the shoulders and going back over him. Good, this is what Connor wanted. He wanted Daryl to hit him, to make Connor understand that this was a _man_ on top of him and nothing else. This was a man, a friend, and nothing more, there could not be anything more because this is not what God would want from Connor. And Connor wanted to beat the shit out of him too, to make this idiot understand that whoever this asshole was, no matter who he liked, Connor was not going to be like him. Even if Daryl didn't admit it, even if Daryl was straight, whoever was spurring these feelings in Connor, these stupid dreams, he needed to hurt that person.

"What the hell's your problem?!" Daryl yelled down at him, punching him hard in the face. Connor felt blood squirt from his nose.

"HEY!" Murphy yelled.

"Murph you stay back!" Connor yelled as Daryl brought Connor's torso up, picking him up by his shirt. Connor and Daryl breathed hard into each other's faces, Daryl in pure anger, not knowing what he had done to deserve this. And how could Connor even tell him? How could he tell him that he had accidentally turned Connor on, in a time of great peril no less? And yet they stared at each other, Daryl's face nothing more than dirty and bruised, and Connor with blood on his face. Both so angry, and even in this moment, stupid, dumbass Daryl, his god damn blue eyes traveled down to Connor's lips.

The anger inside Connor was monumental.

"You son of a bitch." Connor whispered.

Daryl's eyes shot back up to Connor, and his glare only worsened. If looks could kill, Connor would be dead.

"Daryl," Glenn said calmly. "Come on. Let's go."

Daryl frowned and punched Connor once more, despite Murphy's yells. Connor felt his lip split under Daryl's strong knuckles. The archer threw him back to the ground and got off from Connor, grabbing his crossbow and walking up to Glenn and Maggie.

Murphy of course stepped in front of Daryl. "What the hell?"

"He hit me first." Daryl snapped, glaring at him. "And I swear to whatever fucking dumbass God you believe in, you fucking touch me, I'll have you back out on the road with your dumbass brother."

He pushed back him roughly, making Murphy stumble. Connor sat up and wiped his lip, shrugging lamely at Murphy who was giving him a look of pure confusion.

* * *

><p>"Hey," Rick said, watching Daryl bolt past him in a hurry. "Where are you going?" he asked. But Daryl was too far gone, he was so angry and not even Rick could help him now. It took everything in him not to unleash his anger on Rick, who turned him around quickly and grabbed his shoulders, forcing Daryl to look at him. "What happened?"<p>

Daryl shook his head, watching over Rick's shoulders as the others were walking up to the prison now. Maggie was looking very uncomfortable, but Glenn looked like he didn't know whether he should laugh or not. Bringing up the rear were those two idiots.

Rick touched Daryl's bruising eye. "What happened?" his thumb stroked it.

"Don't," Daryl flinched, moving away. "Just don't." It was too much for him now. He had gotten over Rick, he had, and he didn't think of him as anything more as his best friend, but after the blow he had just endured from Connor, he was craving physical contact, and if he got it from Rick he would spiral down into a deep pit of depression. Rick needed the new Daryl; he could not go down that road. Besides, it was Connor he was mad at, this had nothing to do with Rick.

He had told himself to move on from Connor, the same way he had done with Rick. Rick was straight, Connor was straight, and Daryl had to accept that and move on. He did it too, he was able to get past it in the past two weeks, he and Connor had become relatively good friends, Murphy too whenever he decided not to let his smart mouthed comments escape him. But Connor must really hate him, because every time they were alone, he acted so different, like Daryl was some kind of disease. Like being near him hurt him.

And then today with that stupid fight, Connor noticed Daryl's eyes linger, and hell that broke Daryl's heart. Because the only thing he had said to him was 'son of a bitch', and Daryl had felt his heart break for the second time in this stupid ass apocalypse.

At least when Merle was alive, he forced him to have sex with girls. It was not preferable, but at least it gave Daryl the most absurd sense of direction.

"We got into a scuffle." Connor said, coming up to them.

Glenn tapped Rick's shoulder. "Daryl came out the winner." but when he saw that Rick wasn't smiling, he sighed. "Rick, we found a leg for Hershel."

"Go give it to him please." he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Murphy stood with Connor and did not move even when Rick glared at him. The young brother crossed his arms and sent Rick a challenging glance. "I ain't leavin' my brother."

Rick sighed and put one hand on Daryl's shoulder, but this time, Daryl didn't move away. Now, he needed Rick's touch to keep him calm. Because Daryl was hating himself more and more by the second. He hated that he liked men, he hated that he had caused harm to Connor, and he hated that the moment he fell for someone, and there was no turning back from it. Sure, he did not love Rick anymore, not like that, but he loved him like a brother to the point where it ripped him up from the inside out. And now with Connor...

He didn't think he was making Connor hate him; he had done everything to make sure that Connor would be okay with him. Making him help on runs, bringing his brother along for them, giving them first choosing on the chores too.

"I thought I explained you the rules." Rick snapped. "We fight what's on the outside, not each other."

"It's nothin'," Daryl said. "It's nothin' important."

"What did you two fight about?"

"Something stupid." Connor said, looking right at Daryl. Daryl felt his look of hate pierce his heart.

Rick ran a hand through his hair. "Alright, look, neither one of you are clearly going to tell me. So, here's how this is going to work. Tomorrow, you two are going to take the car to town and you're going to stalk up, now that it's getting colder. And if you have to fight, fight it out there and with your _words_, but you cannot bring this shit back to the prison." he pointed at Connor. "If you hurt him again, I will make sure that you are both gone. And from the way things were going for you two, your brother won't survive very long."

Daryl had to look away from Connor, he knew that was a hit below the belt. Bringing up what had happened to Murphy the way he had just done, even though he didn't exactly say the words...it would be another sleepless night for the two brothers.

"Rick," Daryl whispered.

"No," Rick snapped. "I warned you both, that once you come into this house, it's under our rules. Next time you hurt Daryl, you're done." he turned to Daryl, his expression immediately becoming kinder. "Judith has been whining for you. You can sleep in my cell tonight, if you want. Carl can sleep with Carol."

Daryl didn't dare to disagree. "Sure." he bit the inside of his lip.

Rick stomped up, furious and Daryl looked back to Murphy, his hand out in front of him shaking his head. "M'sorry 'bout Rick, he shouldn't have said that."

This time it was Murphy who pushed past him. "That's right, stick up for your boyfriend." he shook his head and walked past Daryl. "Connor! Let's go!"

Connor did not look at Daryl as he walked past him. Daryl stayed outside until the sun set, his head in his hands, trying not to hate the world more than he already did.


	6. Chapter 6

Needless to say, the mood of Daryl and Connor did not improve for the following week. Both of them, unless they were both around their respective other halves (Daryl with Rick and Connor with Murphy), neither one of them decided to be happy about anything. Daryl was even barely speaking to Carol, which was more than unfortunate considering they shared a cell together.

It was Rick however, who was receiving most of the backlash of it all. Since Daryl was in a sour mood, he as finding every way possible to go out of the prison every chance he could get and Rick had felt so bad that he would oblige blindly. Except today, Rick had finally taken a stand and had sent the two of them off alone. Daryl had barely argued, he had seen this coming, and honestly, he was too tired to argue with Rick. He rather focus his anger on who he was actually angry at, rather than take it out on Rick who obviously didn't deserve it.

"It's gettin' cold out," Daryl said lamely, not in an attempt to converse with the dumb Irish man, but to hopefully, make him understand that this run, no matter how much neither one of them wanted to be on it, had to get done, and properly.

"No shit, Sherlock." Connor snapped from a foot behind him, not as graceful in the woods as Daryl was.

Daryl almost turned around and punched him right then and there, but he decided to do nothing. This run was for Rick, he was doing this for the people at the prison. He had to just get through the day, get through this run and come home with something for them to eat.

Honestly, Daryl had done well lately. They had stocked up with everything they could for the winter; Daryl had taken a whole team with him, including both Irish brothers. Glenn, Maggie, Michonne, and even Rick had come along. Daryl was glad for that, he knew Rick wanted to put down his gun, but since they had a shit load of things to do, stock up on different types of medicine and whatever types of food that would not go rotten, they had decided it was best that he come along. They had found one place that had been like a gold mine to them, they had to make two trips, and thank god it had gone off without a hitch.

But Daryl always wondered. What happened if they ran out of food in this place? Not in the prison, but in their area, eventually he supposed, food would eventually just...disappear, wouldn't it? Go extinct, at least in this general area?

Christ, he didn't know shit. For now, things were good, and food was still coming to them so Daryl thought he rather just go along with it while he could before he had to worry.

"Don't know why I had to come with you," Connor muttered, but Daryl thought that he truly thought he was talking under his breath. "Coulda stayed back and let you do this on your own."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Would you stop complainin'?" he snapped. "You think I wanna be out here with you?"

"What's wrong, angel," Connor said mockingly. "Afraid I'm gonna beat the shit out of you?"

Daryl snorted. "Right," he mumbled, looking at the floor, at the tracks from the deer he was hunting. "Last I checked I was the one who got the punches in."

"First and last time you do, too." he said confidently. "Besides, I got the first one in, so that's what counts."

"Right." Daryl shook his head, putting his hand up. Thank God, Connor didn't take offence to Daryl telling him to stay quiet, he got closer though, and watched Daryl crouch down and put his crossbow up. Connor had to look away, while Daryl took the buck down. Daryl had noticed that, but didn't think too much of it. Maybe Connor didn't mind killing people, but killing helpless animals didn't sit well with him. Honestly, Daryl didn't like it either, but this was not the time to have too much heart when you're fighting for your life every day.

Daryl got up and turned around poking Connor with the back of his crossbow. He turned around and frowned, not saying anything as he walked with Daryl to the deer.

"How the fuck are we gonna bring this back?"

"Drag it," Daryl shrugged. "Easier now since I have you with me, besides, we ain't too far from the prison anyhow."

"Right," Connor said, taking off his backpack and getting out the rope he had packed. He smiled briefly, thinking of a simpler time, when rope was not used to tie up food that they had to hunt for themselves, but take down bad people in a city that was infested with violence instead of walkers.

"You know," Daryl said, in a voice that was too light hearted for what Connor was used to. "Connor, honest, I really am sorry, about what Rick said, the other day..."

"S'fine," Connor said, thrusting the rope to him.

Daryl caught it easily and began to work. "Nah, it ain't. He didn't mean it either, doesn't have the heart to throw you guys out. He was just angry."

Connor rolled his eyes. "Right."

"Don't gotta believe me but it's true. We've been through a lot−"

"We've all been through shit." Connor snapped.

"I know, but we've been through more than most, fightin' people as much as walkers, like you and your brother had to do. Rick cares about those people, and when I came back the way I did..."

"You want an apology? Cause you ain't gonna get one?"

"Look asshole," Daryl said, getting up. "I'm tryin' to be civil, alright?"

"Maybe I don't fuckin' wanna be." Connor growled. "Maybe I don't wanna be tramplin' around in the woods like a moron, with some gay ass fuckin' guy who looks at Rick the way Glenn looks at Maggie!" he hadn't realised how loud his voice had gotten, how offended he really was by the whole thing. Connor hated that more than anything, more than the dreams he had, more than the moments of thinking what it would really be like to be like Daryl...no, what really burned him up inside was that the way Daryl looked at Rick, it tightened his stomach in the worst way.

And God, he knew he was right. He knew he was right about Daryl because he watched the hunter's face fall a little, his eyes getting hard. The moment his expression changed Connor knew that he had achieved the pain he wanted to cause so badly, Daryl was shutting down. Good.

"You don't even know what you're talkin' about." Daryl snapped, deciding to not bother and ask Connor for help. He began to drag it, grunting a little from the start, his muscles all working.

"Right, I'm the idiot here."

"Your words, not mine."

"That was sarcasm, you moron." He helped Daryl, though against his own will and grabbed the rope and hauled it back with him. For the entire walk back to the prison, thank god they did not come into contact with any walkers, but it might have been a nice break for the horrible and very awkward silence that came between the two of them.

And damn it did not help when they got back.

Rick helped them haul the deer just passed the gates, but then he locked them out again.

"Rick," Daryl frowned.

"You two are going to stay out there until you've worked whatever this is, out." Rick said, shaking his head. "I am sorry but Murphy agrees with me."

"Oh fan-fucking-tastic," Connor kicked the fence. "After what you said the other day, he took your side?"

"I had a long talk with him while you two were out on your hunt." he said. "I apologised, too. But we both think that whatever you two need to say to each other, you need to do it out there, today, and then forget about it, because this prison can't have that."

Daryl titled his head back and swore lightly before nodding at Rick. He turned around and began to walk away, Connor swearing loudly and following. Daryl walked swiftly, angrily, not necessarily at Rick but at the situation and Connor was simply swearing like a sailor from behind.

"Of course you didn't even fight to get back in," Connor yelled. "When _Rick _asks you to do somethin' you god damn fuckin' do it!"

"You bet your ass." Daryl turned around then, his anger getting the better of him, shoving Connor. He backed up into a tree, and Daryl invaded his personal space, his hands holding Connor by the shirt, Connor doing the same to him. "Because when Rick asks me to do somethin', I fuckin' listen, because he is our leader. So every time you decide to bad mouth him, why don't you remember who fuckin' let you stay here."

"Tell you what angel,"

"Call me that again and I will fucking punch you."

Connor only grinned, sending a spiral of both hate and desire whirling through Daryl. It was hard for him, to be attracted to him so strongly while also wanting to staple this man's mouth shut. It was a very conflicting kind of emotion for him. He didn't have that when he loved Rick, he loved Rick fully, and it wasn't about his face. It was just very hard not to love him. But Connor, hell he made it so hard; no pun intended.

"Tell you what," Connor said again. "Admit it to me, and then I'll shut up about it."

Daryl almost rolled his eyes. Even if he did admit it, he knew Connor would never shut up about it. Even if this bridged the tension, it would only lead to him being mocked and tortured for not being a straight tough guy like this idiot was. "I got nothin' to admit." Daryl answered.

"That's bullshit, and you and I both know it." Connor let go of him and put up his hands. "I promise, swear it on my life. Just stop lyin' to me."

"Why the hell do you care anyway?" Daryl let go of him too and backed away. "What does any of this matter to you?"

"I got my own reasons." Connor said. "And I saw the way you looked at me back at the warehouse."

"You're imaginin things."

"Look," Connor said. "Don't give a shit if you are, you ain't hurtin' anyone," he ten grinned a little and touched his healing black eye. "For the most part."

Daryl sighed and stared at Connor. It took everything in him to force the words out of him, especially since he had never even really said it to Rick and Carol, they had just sort of...understood. That was what he loved about his family, that none of them had to ask what Daryl was feeling. If he was angry they sure as hell all knew it and not one of them had ever pushed him the way that Connor was. Well, Carol did with Sophia, but that was different, he was shutting down and pushing away, and she was right to do that.

But Connor, fuck, he pushed Daryl's buttons.

"You think it's a sin." Daryl said quietly.

Connor knew then, that this was Daryl's way of admitting it to him. Honestly, Connor didn't know if it was a sin. He knew there was a lot of talk in religions about what should be done and what shouldn't, but every once in a while Connor had to remember that as much as it says not to kill people, that's how he and Murphy had basically made their living. Sure, they did do it for the greater good, but killing was still a sin. So pieces of Connor thought that yes, maybe Daryl was going against the natural world, and eventually that would bite him in the ass, but the other side of Connor was thinking, honestly, who gives a shit?

But an even bigger thing that bothered him was why he cared so much. He shouldn't care, he shouldn't give two shits about the man in front of him, but he did, and that scared him more than anything. Because what he thought about, all the impure dreams and thoughts he had about Daryl, it sent a pit of worry to his core. Anyone in the world can be gay, but Connor, Connor couldn't be. He liked women; he had been with women, forever. And hell, Daryl looked so much like his brother, that would just be the pinnacle of weirdness.

Except, as much as he looked like Murphy, they were so different that Connor often forget they looked like twins. Not that it made anything too much easier.

"I don't," Connor murmured. "I just wanted to hear you say it?"

"Why? What do you get out of it?"

"Just wanted to know if you were lyin' to yourself as much as you were to me."

Daryl frowned. "Well I ain't, but all that stuff about Rick, it ain't true."

"Oh come on."

"Once, maybe." he mumbled. "Not anymore?"

"How come?"

_No use in lovin' someone you can't have_, Daryl thought bitterly, looking at Connor sadly. Because hell, this guy made him pissed, and made him want to punch out a damn wall, but looking at him, here, now, Daryl felt his heart beat a little faster. Connor was so handsome, and not in the traditional way that Rick was, he was harder, finer jaw, a toner torso than both he and Rick had. He was hard but also lighter, happier, like Murphy, light hair and a light aura. He was protective of his brother, yes, but if his brother was safe and happy than Connor was on cloud nine. He had a smile that stretched his whole face, and his laugh was loud and violent, it shook his whole body.

All of these things made Daryl both sad and happy, and confused and tired.

But he didn't have the chance to answer because they heard growling, and without saying a word to each other, they were gone. Daryl led the way, Connor following swiftly, neither one of them caring too much about the noise they were making. It couldn't be helped, not with the leaves that were on the ground. They ran and ran, but Daryl's eyes were everywhere. He was looking quickly from side to side once and a while, noticing that there were a few on each side that had heard them and were making their way towards them.

He didn't like being this far into the woods with only Connor. He felt like something was going to go horribly wrong. But Connor, thank god, looked as calm as someone could look in this situation. But that was right before it all went to shit.

Daryl, making sure Connor was okay too often, ended up tripping over a root, tumbling down. Connor tried to grab him, but had only hooked his finger too Daryl's vest and so tumbled down with him. They rolled down a hill together, tumbling and grunting, before they landed in a stream. Daryl's head came into contact with a rock, and he saw a number of black stars but forced himself up, wiping his nose, which had blood running down it. Connor was holding his leg, he was bleeding too, and his ankle looked like it had been twisted.

"They're still comin," Daryl breathed.

Connor nodded and the two of them helped each other right off the stream, under the small space that was available between the end of where they had rolled off and the beginning of the stream. They tried to tuck themselves under it, but Daryl wasn't able to fully fit inside; they were too big and the hiding place was too small.

Connor looked afraid for his life, but not in the way that Daryl assumed. "Sit down." Connor whispered.

"What?"

"Sit down and I'll...oh Christ," he breathed. "I have to sit on top of you."

"Are you fuckin' stupid?"

"Listen to me, alright, we can't both fit in here, so we're gonna have to make this work unless you wanna be eaten!" Connor sighed dramatically. "Hell, you're _gay_ shouldn't this be like heaven for you?"

"Shut up!" Daryl hissed, slapping the side of his head.

"You shut up," Connor hit him back, and before they both knew what was happening, they both began to fight with each other. Now was definitely not the time to do that, but the playful hits that had started but a moment ago turned into something resembling wrestling. Their noises did not help, and neither the fact that they were both already injured, making them an even easier target for the walkers. This time however, under the weight of Daryl trying to tackle him, Connor slipped and landed awkwardly in the small space, Daryl falling on top of him as Connor's legs had taken out Daryl's.

But then Daryl put his hand on top of Connor's mouth, because they heard something that was not a walker.

"Joe," a voice said. "You hear that? Sounded like voices."

Daryl tried to move, to get a closer look at how far the people were and how far the walkers were. But when he moved, moved in a way that was similar to the warehouse, rubbing against Connor. Except this time, with his hand over Connor's mouth, and the closeness of them, and the adrenaline rushing through them, Connor did something that Daryl did not expect. He grabbed a hold of Daryl's vest and kept him still, his eyes locking with Daryl.

Was he scared?

"Nah," the voice of Joe, he assumed said. "Look, walkers."

Daryl mouthed 'Let me go' to Connor, and tried to pull back, moving again, rubbing against him again. But to Daryl he didn't think it mattered, he just had to get up, he had to see what was going on, but Connor once again, held on tight, but this time, a brief, and the smallest of moans escaped Connor's lips; his breath hitting Daryl's hand.

Daryl clamped it on tighter, leaning down and moving forward in a small thrust, angry that Connor had let a sound escape him. But the thrust this time had not helped either of them and even Daryl had to bite down to stop himself from giving out a small moan.

Because Connor had gotten hard under the weight of Daryl and the friction he was providing, and that made Daryl's head whirl. He froze, he didn't know what to do or how to react. He knew that above him the man Joe and the other guy were facing the walkers and apparently putting them down with relative ease. He knew that they were in danger, but he also was horrifyingly aware of the fact that Connor was underneath him, and he had _moaned_ when Daryl had accidentally thrusted against him. What the fuck did that mean? Connor was straight, it was Daryl who was...

But Connor had moaned; after all, when something feels good, there's not much anyone could do about that. And Christ, why did any of this matter, why did any of this shit matter when they were one slip up away from being killed by man or walker?

And yet, Daryl could not help himself. Here, under the small hiding space, with nothing but adrenaline and lust pumping through him, with Connor's moan giving him confidence, and with the idea that they could die, Daryl took the biggest risk of his life.

He moved again, thrusted slowly so he rubbed himself against Connor's thigh. Connor's own hard on was pressed against Daryl too, through his jeans, and how Connor even had a hard on was beyond Daryl Dixon, but it was there, and Connor was turned on and hell, Daryl had fucking wished for this moment.

And when he thrust with anxiety, looking away in shame from his actions and unable to look Connor in the eye, Connor grabbed onto his hair, harshly, like he was angry at Daryl for doing this, for giving Connor this erection, for making Daryl think it was okay to be doing this to him.

But Christ it felt so good, it felt so good, that one thrust against Connor's thigh, it made him exhale shakily, and Connor though he looked angry, breathed against Daryl's hand, shaky breaths.

The people above them were still dealing with the walkers, and Daryl got ready to do another shaky, shameful thrust, but Connor instead did something that surprised him. He wiggled his head out from Daryl's hand, and hell, nearly giving Daryl a heart attack , he grabbed Daryl's hair with both his hands now and crashed their lips together.

The kiss was not what Daryl expected kissing Connor would be like. It was not nice or pleasant, but full of anger and resentment, hard and though Connor had rudely forced his tongue in Daryl's mouth, it was not with care that he tasted all of Daryl. But still, though it was aggressive, Daryl preferred it that way, because as much as he hated himself for doing this, he was sure that Connor did not appreciate it either. But Daryl couldn't help himself, he thrusted again while they kissed and the two of them moaned into each other's mouth. Daryl had to stop kissing him, he had to look at him.

And when he did he wished he hadn't.

Connor was looking at him with such hate in his eyes.

Suddenly, the fighting above them stopped, and the two men stilled. Connor was still holding and pulling Daryl's hair, his nails digging into Daryl's skull. Their hard-ons were both pressing through their pants to the other, and God this was the worst torture Daryl had ever been through.

"Let's go," the guy who was named Joe said. "Nothin' left here.

Neither one of them moved until they heard the footsteps vanish, and the moment they did, Connor pushed Daryl off him. They were both injured, both still turned on, and both looking at each other with shame, hate and desire all rolled into one confusing mix. But neither one of them spoke, neither one helped the other. They made their way back to the prison in complete and utter silence.


End file.
